Forbidden
by wyldfyr75
Summary: Tamara is a headstrong, animal loving woman who is forced to sell her soul to an arrogant billionaire in order to protect the people that she loves. She settles for her shallow life until that day she falls in love with a stubborn pilot named Sasha. An epic romance ensues, but will their love prevail even when humanity is doomed?
1. Chapter 1: Simple Beginnings

***Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from this story. All rights belong to the creators and producers of 2012. This story may contain violence/and con (and possible non-con) scenes.***

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 **Tamara**

She remembers it clearly. The forest by the ranch where she grew up was covered in snow up to one's knees that winter. The stream that ran through the town was frozen solid and the bridge that connected the two sides of the waterway framed the Winter Wonderland scene as if it were a part of an elaborate Hollywood movie.

Tamara Zagitova was itching to go skating that morning. Her grandparents had gotten her a brand new pair of skates that were manufactured in Germany for Christmas that year.

Before she could go out Tamara's mother had insisted that she brush the horses and then take Mesto for a ride. Normally Tamara would have been delighted at having an opportunity to ride her favourite horse around her family's ranch, but today her heart just wasn't in it.

She approached the dark mare's pen slowly, Mesto was usually a very calm horse but as of late he had begun to startle more easily. The horse threw back its head neighed as she approached.

"Shh, darling," Tamara cooed.

She held out her outstretched hand which contained the largest green apple she could find in the family's pantry that morning. Mesto calmed enough to sniff the juicy fruit in her hand. He trotted over silently and took a bite. Tamara laughed and patted his head reassuringly.

"Someday you and I will get out of here. We'll go to Moscow and live in a palace with a handsome prince. How does that sound?" Mesto snorted his approval. Tamara had no idea how true the words she had just spoken would turn out to be.

Tamara was out riding far longer than she had initially planned to be that day. By the time she had returned home, it was nearly dark and the moon was beginning to wane. Tamara's mother Vera stood on the front porch of their ranch-styled home in a pink, frilly bathroom. Her gray hair was tied neatly in a bun and she held a white tissue in her right hand. Her face was distraught, and her eyes were red and puffy. It was obvious she had been crying, even from where Tamara stood.

She quickly dismounted from the horse and quickly grabbed the reins to steady Mesto as she hurried towards the house. She worried that something had happened to her father as his health had been failing in the past few years.

"Mama, what is it? Are you hurt? Where is Papa?" Tamara said breathlessly. From the corner of her eye she could she a black Bentley drive away from the side of the house.

"Come inside Mara, we have some things to talk about."

After Tamara settled Mesto in for the night, she followed her mother into the house and into her bedroom. Vera shut the door silently and without turning around she sighed.

"Mara, what are you doing with your life?"

"Mama, I don't understand…"

"I know why you stayed with us all these years Mara, you wanted to help us with the horses and you didn't want us to be alone." Vera's eyes looked pitifully at her young daughter. Tamara had been named Tamara Karasavina, famous Russian ballerina. With her grace and beauty, Tamara's parents had planned for their only child to have a successful future.

"Listen Mama…" Tamara began before her mother put up a hand to stop her.

"No you listen, you are a twenty-five-year-old woman. You are a spinster— "

"MOTHER!" Tamara shrieked.

Her mother ignored her protests and continued nonetheless.

"You attend a silly community college and you spend all your time here with us. You had so many dreams growing up. You wanted to study fashion and become an Olympic figure skater, do you remember?" Vera walked over and sat next to Tamara at the foot of the bed as she took her hand.

"I remember, but you and Papa need me here." Tamara insisted, "After Papa had the heart attack he has not been the same, I _need_ to be here."

"It is time to think seriously about your future, Angel." Vera paused and turned her head as she whispered, "A businessman in the oil industry has been pressuring your papa and I to sell this place…Apparently there are lots of resources under this old house that he wants to extract."

"What? Why did you not tell me? " Tamara stood up, whilst her mother looked at the floor, ashamed of her own meekness.

"Your Papa has refused to leave this place, but Karpov has now begin to threaten us. If we don't sell, he will have us killed...we don't have choice, Mara." Vera looked up to find Tamara's face blank and her stare remained unwavering from a stain on the oak hardwood floor in the corner of the small room.

"What's his name, this 'businessman'?" Tamara asked.

"Yuri Karpov, he's from Murmansk, a boxer, and apparently from old money." Vera whispered quietly. She saw the look on Tamara's face and quickly uttered, "Don't do anything stupid Mara."

Tamara shook her head to convince her mother she wasn't going to do anything reckless. However, inside she had already made up her mind that she was going to confront this Karpov pig. Who did this rich bully think he was, coming into her family home and threatening to kill her parents? This piece of land had been in her family for generations and she loved every inch of it. She had been born in this house, raised here and couldn't imagine someone else getting their hands on it. _No, Tamara thought, I won't let him get away with this. The poor of this country have always been pushed around by those so wealthy they no longer knew what to do with all of their money. It has to stop somewhere._

The following morning before her parents arose for their daily chores, Tamara was already on a train to Moscow heading toward Yuri Karpov's head office, obtained from a business card he had left on their dinning room table. She wore modest clothing and her brown boots were stained with mud. A knitted green cap covered her blonde locks and gave her the silent confidence that came with wearing any hat.

Normally she would have been more cautious as to what she was wearing when venturing outside of her home (as is customary for any sensible young Russian lady), but at this point she didn't particularly care. Tamara was naturally a very beautiful young woman even when dressed in shabby clothing, a fact that she and her parents were quite proud of.

She glanced outside the window at the countryside passing by her, contemplating the unfairness of her modest life. Little did she know, that her beauty was going to get her an offer from Yuri Karpov that she couldn't possibly refuse…

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 ***I attempted to make the story as accurate in terms of detail and location settings as possible. If you find evidence to the contrary, please let me know and feel free to review :)**


	2. Chapter 2: Seduced by Glamour

**Tamara (May 2009)**

Surprisingly enough, Tamara found Karpov's head office relatively easily after departing from the train station. The building itself was by far the tallest in the city and from the ground up Tamara could only imagine that it had an exquisite view from the top floor.

Upon entering, she asked, no _commanded_ that the young male receptionist on the first floor direct her to Karpov's private office.

The receptionist was a young blued eyed man that wore a polished gray suit with matching black dress shoes. His light brown hair was slicked back and his Russian was spoken with a slight accent. He conveyed the fact the Karpov was a very busy man who had no time for silly girls and their tactless complaints.

Tamara stole a glance at a gold directory plaque on the far right corner of the lobby and deduced that Karpov was on the very last floor. Room 125. Director's office. Without saying another word, Tamara bolted for the large elevators.

Upon arriving, she had miraculously managed to slip by his security team outside his office and came charging into the room shouting in both Russian and English as she took in his appearance and her surroundings.

The first thing Tamara thought when she first laid eyes on Yuri Karpov was that he embodied a typical Russian oligarch. He was physically large, had a wide nose and had curly salt and pepper hair except for the fact that he was balding slightly at the sides of his oval shaped head.

He was seated alone at a large mahogany desk and he had a glass of alcohol in his left hand.

Rather than call security or get angry by her outburst, Yuri merely raised an eyebrow, looked her over once and offered her a glass of whiskey from his own personal collection.

The conversation played out like this: Yuri would agree to let her parents continue to live on the ranch provided that she agree to go shopping with him and then have dinner with him. She hesitated at first, but then reluctantly agreed seeing no alternative solution to her current predicament.

By the end of that day, Yuri had her done up like an over made up doll. Their shopping trip composed of picking out new clothes, a new hairstyle and even new jewellery for their night in the vibrant capital.

Even though the experience was undoubtedly overwhelming for the home grown country beauty, Tamara was instantly seduced by this glimpse of a world she had only ever read about. As she walked down the streets of Moscow in a tight red dress arm-in-arm with Yuri, she couldn't help but compare herself to Vivian Ward from _Pretty Woman_.

At dinner, Yuri proved to be somewhat of a gentleman and he appeared to be quite charming when he wanted to be, despite her initial impression of him.

Though, she guessed right about one thing. He had a nasty temper.

This was inevitably demonstrated by his interactions with the uncooperative waiting staff at the upscale restaurant. He also appeared to be quite controlling as Tamara noted that earlier that same day, he had selected all of her clothing and accessory items that she was currently wearing. He also ordered her meal as well. _Fois gras_. It was something Tamara despised, but somehow she felt compelled to please him and began to eat her duck liver slowly and deliberately while smiling like a happy toddler.

Despite the fact that Karpov's behaviour concerned her, Tamara pushed her doubts aside and rationalized that this was the only way she could save her beloved family's home. In reality she was also thinking about something Yuri had said earlier that day, that only _he_ could give her the life she could never have otherwise.

And for selfish reasons beyond her, she practically moved into his grand penthouse that same night. That was the extent to which her initial relationship with Yuri had played out. No flowers, no sparks, just a simple business deal. In theory, to a certain extent, she likened herself to a prostitute, willing to sell herself for monetary and social gains. Only, Tamara would find herself fitting into the role of mistress or girlfriend, as if that was any consolidation.

She had called her worried parents the following morning to tell them she had 'accepted a job' with Karpov in Moscow and that in exchange they would be safe to continue living on their much beloved parcel of land. While Tamara's father was overjoyed with the news, Tamara sensed that her mother did not believe the entire story. Vera pointed out that Tamara's story didn't make much sense, to which Tamara angrily refuted and then cut the conversation short by promising to call again soon.

One thing that was certain, she would not be able to return home anytime soon and at this particular moment she had no immediate desire to do so.


End file.
